Voices of Hope (The Seafort Saga Book 5)

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Voices of Hope (The Seafort Saga Book 5) Page 41

by David Feintuch


  Halber say cautious, “How’m I gonna talk ta Chang, widout they hear?”

  Peetee say, “I know a way. But I want innifo.”

  “C’n still diss ya, joey.” A growl.

  Peetee say slow and careful, “I’m not afraid of you.”

  Halber blink. After min, he ask, “Why not?”

  “I’ve been terrified all week. It’s time to stop.”

  Don’ make no sense, but Halber nod like he unnerstan’. “What innifo?”

  “Take me to Jared.”

  “Noway!”

  “We need to talk. And you know I can’t stop him if he wants to stay.”

  Halber make fist, open it again. He sigh. “’Kay. Afta ya help me call Chang, Pook’ll take ya. We better hurry, ’fore Raulie an Chinas blow—” He stop sudden. “Betta hurry.”

  In few min, Peetee connec’ while Changman, Halber an’ Allie an’ me watch. He say, “We talked it over, Mr. Chang.”

  Halber hiss, “You don’ sound like no trannie!”

  Peetee cover his caller. “I’ll try.”

  “Yah?” Ol’ man soun’ tired. “Whatcha wan’ me to do?”

  Halber mutter, “Tellim we accep’, if dey go quick on water.”

  Joeykit say, “Mr. Chang, think ’bout ya shop.”

  “Wha’?” Halber spring ta feet.

  Peetee wave him quiet. “When you go in door, you c’n turn right or left. Right is—right be yes, left be no.”

  I giggle. Peetee don’ sound like no tribe I eva hear.

  Chang’s voice cautious. “G’wan.”

  “We wan’ you ta turn towar’ the table where you keep ya teapot.”

  Long silence. Then, “I unnerstan’.”

  I think. Chang’s table be ta right. Peetee sayin’ yes, we accep’.

  “Mr. Chang?” Peetee concentrate har’. “Remember when ya were going ta serve me tea, and the water was boiling away? Ya ran to the teapot, and quick turned it off.”

  Halber frown. I shake head, wonderin’ if Peetee go glitch.

  Chang soun’ like he don’ unnerstan’ neitha. “You want me to run to the teapot?”

  “No, sir. I wancha to think about what you told me when it boiled.”

  Again, silence. Then, “Ah! Okay okay, if I can. Filmatleven.”

  “Ya understand”

  “Yah. An’ one more thing. Ya frien’ prolly real tired. Lettim sleep a while.”

  “I don’ follow you, sir.”

  Chang sound irritable. “Joeykit been workin’ too hard, is all. Give ’im rest.”

  “Okay,” Philip say doubtful. Then his face suddenly clear. “I’ll tell him.”

  “Get back witcha soon as I can.”

  Halber grab caller back from Peetee. “What’s his givin’ ya tea gotta do wid rumb?”

  “I told him you wanted them to hurry with the purification plant. When he made tea he told me there wasn’t water to waste. He knew what I was—”

  Unnercar slowed. Someone tug at Halber’s arm. “Halb, look!”

  “Glitched, both a yas.” Sub boss shake his head at Peetee, punch numbas inna caller. “Need ya, Raulie.” He wait, bang caller on bench. “Why doncha ansa when I need ya?”

  As unnercar stop, caller light blink green. Halb growl, “Raulie? ’Bout time! Lissen, don’t blow wall. Changman is workin’ on trayfo an’—”

  “Halber!” Allie sound urgent. She point through broke window. I look.

  We at Nine Six staysh. Across track, whole buncha trannies sleepin’ on far platform.

  Halber snarl, “Whassamatta? Can’ they hear car? Allie, wakem up.”

  She jump down on track. In min she at otha side. Clap her hans. Ben’ down. Jump up an’ whirl. “HALBER!” She back away from sleepin’ Sub so fas’ she almos’ fall off edge.

  Halber bolt from car, race ’cross track. Peetee an’ I trayfo worry look. “C’mon.” I follow.

  Halber on knees, longside sleepin’ Sub bitchgirl who remin’ me a Bigsis. Comin’ close, I see blood roun’ her mouth an’ nose. Eyes wide-open.

  Sub Boss lay her down gentle, run ta anotha. I could tellim no point in it, if I stupe enough ta make soun’.

  All of ’em dead. C’n tell from way dey lyin’ even widout blood run from nose, mouth, sometimes eyes.

  “Lord Christ!” Peetee. He stumble, catch hisself. “Jesus God, no!” He clutch stomach, gag.

  Halber run from one Sub ta next.

  Retchin’, Peetee yank my arm. “Get me out of here.”

  I try ta free myself, but he hold onta me too har’.

  “Innacar!” Halber. “INNACAR!

  Peetee ack like he can’ walk. I drag him ’cross track, help him climb in car. Sub Boss swarm afta. In car, he knock trannies aside, stomp ta motor room, haul out driva, push self in. Car start wid lurch.

  Tremblin’, Peetee sag ta flo’, hans workin’ at shirt. His mouth go fast, but I can’ hear words. He hug self an’ rock.

  Unnercar race through dark. Trannies scare an’ silent.

  Screechin’ an’ shudderin’, car grind ta stop. ’Notha staysh. I ask Allie, “Where we be?”

  She mumble, “Hunnert Three.” Eyes red.

  Halber bound out. Cautious, I go afta.

  Only two lyin’ in cave. Sub Boss kneel at firs’. In his throat, odd soun’, like growl.

  From door Allie say timid, “Where’s rest, Halb? Was coupla hunnert livin’ here.”

  “Dunno.”

  Scare but try in’ not ta show, I walk roun’ grim staysh, wander towar’ upstair.

  When I get back Halb sayin’, “Dey prolly run fa safe. We’ll fin’ ’em at Hunnert Ten.”

  “No ya won’.” Voice so strange, takes a min ta realize it be mine.

  Halber come at me, fists bunch, but I jus’ step ’side.

  He stumble pas’ ta stair. I don’ follow; already seen what he gonna fin’. ’Stead, I go back ta crowded unnercar, sit next ta Peetee.

  Huggin’ self, I stare at broke window, at dirty nervous Sub joeys packed in unnercar. Stare at boots, bes’ I ever had thanks ta capture Jared.

  “Hold my hand.” Peetee.

  Car movin’ again. “Fraz yaself.”

  “Help me.” His voice, low, urgent. I look up; his face white. “I’m revving:”

  I shrug, look away. When I look back, he lost in self, nails pickin’ at skin of hands. I grab his fingers, hold.

  He rest his forehead ’gainst my arm. Awkward, I stroke hair.

  Bumps. Unnercar stop so har’ trannies flung all ova.

  From fronta car, yellin’.

  I look up. We ain’ reach staysh.

  I don’ wanna get up, but gotta. Like bad dream, I can’ escape monstas chasin’. Peetee won’ leggo, but when I get ta feet, he too.

  I squeeze through trannies ta front a car. “Whassamatta?”

  Halber’s face pressed ta window. He don’ ansa.

  Lights from unnercar gleam in black tunnel like animal in nigh’. Shine on walls, on stone pillas, on dim staysh ahead.

  Track full a still trannie bodies.

  “Jeez.” Sof’ whispa. Mine.

  “We been run over ’em.” Halber’s cheeks wet. “My Subs. Wid unnercar.” His hand grip my wrist so hard I gasp.

  “Couldn’ help, Halb. Ya din’ know.”

  “Ova Subs!” Like he don’ hear, he climb down from car, pullin’ me along. Peetee leggo, but follow like he walk in sleep.

  Both sides a tracks cram wid a bodies. Obvious, most trannies caught runnin’. I stumble ova Easter joey. His shirt bloody where drip from chin. Eyes rolled back in head. Arm curl roun’ joeykit whose mouth be wide like tryin’ ta breathe. Halber look at slick wheels a unnercar, an’ retch.

  Slow, we step ova dead, ’alla way ta nex’ staysh. Can’ believe tunnel so full a bodies. Climb onta platform. I step on han’. “Sorry,” I mutter, ’fore I c’n help it.

  Dead joey don’ min’. Won’ min’ much, now on.

  Nobody lef. I look roun’, feelin sick
. Dissin’ some Broad in rumb, no prollem. But dissin’ hunnerts ...

  Halber walk slow, like in dream.

  At far end a staysh, a soun’. “’Licia?”

  Sub Boss whirl. “Whossat?”

  “Crina be I.” Ol’ joey, har’ly any teeth.

  “Wha happen?” Halber gesture, like need ta ’xplain his question.

  “Shoey an’ Dross an me wen’ up Hunnert Twenny Five, lookin’ fo’ water cans. Too many joeys crowdin’ unner, now days. Not enough water.” Ol’ man limp towar’ us. I back away, like he carry death. “When we start unner, saw buncha trannies runnin’ our way. Ya seen my ’Licia?”

  “What happen ta Subs?”

  “Some was coughin’. Few fell on groun’ twitchin’ an’ shudderin’ ’til dey still. And some escaped ta out. I saw Pango runnin’ past. He live wid us on Hunnert Ten. I grabbed him ta ask where was ’Licia.”

  “G’wan.”

  “He din’ know.” Ol’ man peer roun’ at bodies. “Been lookin’ fo’ bitchgirl eva since. She ain’ so pretty now days, but I been wid ’Licia since we was joeykits. Not righ’ she die widout me.”

  “Crina ...” Halber’s voice surprisin’ gentle.

  “I know, I know, ’Licia my prollem, not you’s. I asked Pango wha happen. ‘Unies,’ he yell, an pull free from my hold. ‘Crazy Uppie tried ta warn us. Raced down stair shoutin’ ta run away, Unies ’bout ta gas us. Alla joeys laugh.’”

  Crina squint roun’. “Dat you, ’Licia?” He shuffle ta still form among many. “Hon?” He crouch, look ta Halber like beg help. “How’m I gonna reconize her, face all blood?”

  Peetee stir. “Jesus God Jesus God Jesus God Jesus ...” His voice tremble. I put arm roun’ his shoulda, ’til he quiet.

  “Naw, you ain’ ’Licia; she won’ wear nothin’ blue. Hates blue. ‘Run,’ Uppie was shoutin’. ‘Get outa confine space.’ But Pango say by then, too late. Unie troops charge downstair, shootin’, draggin’ giant hose. Smoke come out. Pango said he run fas’ he can, holdin’ breath ’til he ’bout collapse. When he jumped down ta track, he heard screams south a Hunnert Ten staysh, like Unies stickin’ hose unner grate too.”

  “Chris’!”

  Crina shrug. “Later, coupla joeys wen’ back, careful, sniffin’ air for bad. I guess afta while, smoke musta wen’ up stairs an’ out airholes. When I saw trannies come back safe, I come home ta fin’ ’Licia. I even poked head out, upstair. Dozens a trannies burn by laser, lyin’ on street where dey fall. Unies musta waited toppa staysh ta shoot any tryin’ ta escape. Dunno why dey wasn’t at Hunnert Twenny Five too.”

  Ol’ man move away, stoppin’ time ta time at woman’s body. “Really wanna fin’ her, Halb. Gettin’ late, an’ I tire.”

  ’Xcept fo’ shuffle of Crina’s feet, all was still. Halber wander, sayin’ nothin’. Afta time, so do I, Peetee stayin’ close. I ’fraid ta go near stair, but can’ stan’ still.

  We go roun’ corna. Here, bodies cram togetha like fo’ protec’. I can’ keep lookin’ at agonize faces. See arms, legs, shoes, wonnerin’ how ta reconize Crina’s bitchgirl.

  Peetee stop short, starin’.

  “C’mon.” ’Gain, I put arm roun’ shoulda. He look down at bloodstain jumpsuit.

  Behin’ us, Halber make soun’. I turn. Sub boss snatch caller, stab numbas. His eyes be craze. “Raulie?” He stalk back an’ for’, stumblin’ ova bodies. “RAULIE!”

  From calla, faint soun’. “Yo, Halb?”

  “Blow the wall. Hear me?” Halber’s voice rise ta yell. “Frazzin’ Uppies think dey own da worl’! Now we show ’em!”

  I say, “High water isn’t ’til—”

  He slap me wid back a hand, sen’ me flyin’, without even look. “Blow the fuckin’ wall!”

  Chapter 49

  ROBERT

  IT WAS EARLY MORNING. In Washington, Dad listened patiently while I poured out my frustrations over the caller. Outside, a persistent haze drifted. Even the tower’s air scrubbers couldn’t remove the acrid tang. “And Fizer won’t leave Washington. These damn conference calls ... he can’t see what’s going on, smell the smoke in the air.”

  On the screen, Dad nodded. “He’s playing it safe. If it all blows up in our face, Rex can say he was consulted, but wasn’t on the scene.”

  A third caller light blinked. Resolutely, I ignored it. “Jeff Thorne’s even worse, at Lunapolis. You know how hard it is to reach consensus under a time lag?”

  “He’s with fleet command, where he ought to be. Unless he’s back to drinking. Why do you need him?”

  I spluttered. “Why? We’re a committee, for Christ’s sake.”

  “Don’t blaspheme. He’s not a colleague, he’s a sure vote. Why do you think I chose him?”

  “Am I supposed to work alone, without—”

  “Of course you are.” Dad’s voice sharpened. “That’s what I intended. Rex Fizer may offer a few suggestions, but basically he’s with us. Thorne will keep the Navy happy. The show’s all yours.”

  “But I don’t want it!” I paused to regroup. “Dad, it’s getting out of hand.”

  “How so?”

  “We’re fighting a major rebellion. General Ruben is sure the market disruption is tied in, though he can’t figure how the trannies accessed the puter power it would take. The U.N. Securities Board has a task force tracing—”

  “I know, and they’d better hurry. Holoworld took a massive hit; Peabody and Co’s almost down the tubes. If Franjee’s group goes with them ...” He shook his head.

  I said, “We’ve had two conference calls with SecGen Kahn. The Thirteenth Armored is ready to move, and the SecGen is pushing for immediate action. Tonight, if possible.”

  “Good. The sooner it’s over with ...”

  “Ernst Ruben argued for a delay, to give them time to surrender. You know what the trannie terms are?”

  “Diversion of the Freshwater Project? Impossible, Robbie.”

  “I made that clear.”

  “We’d lose our campaign kitty.” Dad sighed. “Get it over with.”

  “We have to offer them something, for the record. I proposed a speedup on the next purification plant, but Kahn wants agreement on both sides of the aisle.”

  I grimaced. “How much?”

  “Over a hundred million. More than we can afford, but do we have a choice?”

  “Not really. If Ruben brings in an armored division, the damage to the city will exceed that. Tell him we agree.”

  “Done. By the way, have you heard from Adam Tenere?”

  “No, Robbie He never calls me. You’re his friend.”

  “He’s been out of touch since ... I couldn’t remember when. A fourth light blinked on my console. Then a fifth. “Dad, I’ve got to go.”

  “Okay. Robbie, we’ve got the votes. We’ll back you however this plays out. But be sure you leave the public statements to Kahn.”

  “He’ll want us on the podium when he takes the heat.”

  “Of course. Look solemn and say nothing.”

  We said our good-byes and rang off. I sighed again; Dad too, was out of touch in Washington. Thank heaven, a massive show of force had prevented trouble near the old White House. But because he saw no fighting, Dad didn’t realize how close the city was to a bloodbath.

  Frowning, I punched the call button.

  From outside, a voice raised in protest. “Hold it! You can’t just barge—”

  The door flew open. “Robert!” I jumped, as Captain Nicholas Seafort strode to my desk. “Where the hell are you running?”

  I realized I’d retreated behind my console. “How did you get—I’m glad to see you, sir.”

  He spun a chair, sat backwards, rested his arms on the back. “Do you have word of Philip?”

  “No. Jared neither.”

  “Where’s Adam?”

  “I don’t know. Sir, at this point it’s beyond a search for the boys. They’re sending in—”

  “The Thirteenth Armored Cavalry, the bloody fools.
You know what the SecGen’s up to. Can you stop this?”

  “Captain, I’m only a liaison. It’s General Ruben who—”

  “Robbie, we’re done playing games.”

  I swallowed. “No, sir, I can’t stop it.” Breaking a bargain with the SecGen would injure Dad, and regardless, I doubted it was possible.

  “Very well. Have your soldiers let me out streetside, and wait at the door for my return.”

  I shook my head. “They won’t let you. There’s full-scale war brewing.”

  “I’m going for my son.” It was as if I hadn’t spoken. His finger shot out, transfixed me with a warning. “Lord God help you or Richard if you try to stop me.”

  I smiled, to ease the tension. “Is that a threat?”

  “Yes.”

  I swallowed. In his political days the Captain had led by persuasion. Rarely—never—had I heard him threaten an opponent.

  Was that what I’d become: an enemy? With a pang of regret I recalled my days at Academy.

  “Move it, Robbie.” His fingers drummed on the chair back, as his eyes burned into mine.

  “I’ll see what I can do.” Gladly, I left him.

  We choose our paths. His might well lead to death. If so, he’d become a martyr. Well, it wasn’t what I wanted, but we could live with that. As the last Supranationalist SecGen, Nick Seafort still carried weight. And, on this issue at least, he directly opposed Dad.

  Ruben was gone, for some much-needed sleep. I found Major Groves, told him what the Captain demanded.

  He shook his head. “Impossible.”

  “Then make it possible. He’s a man who can do us great harm.”

  “Us? Are you including me in your political schemes?” The major’s lip curled in disgust.

  “You lost a friend in the Fourteenth Street encampment. Don’t you want him avenged? What if the Captain publicly opposes us, and Kahn pulls back the troops?”

  “We’re committed. There’s no way Kahn would—”

  “Are you certain?”

  His eyes met mine a long moment. Finally they fell. “I won’t spare troops for his wild goose chase. If he’s hurt, it’s his own doing.”

  “Agreed. He understands.”

  Minutes later, we stood at the foot of the tower. My conscience stirred; I said again to the Captain, “Are you sure, sir? There’s really nothing you can do.”

 

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